


That Mage From Tevinter

by Cyberfairie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull had never been out on a mission with the Inquisitor, not that he wouldn’t be willing, but the Inquisitor valued the work Bull does with the Chargers too much to want to split them up.  Even so, the tales Varric tells in the tavern can’t be right.  No mage in his right mind would go charging into the middle of a battlefield in armor that amounted to a bed sheet.  It had to be Varric telling tall tales didn’t it?  After all, if Dorian had done half the things Varric said he had the man should spent half his time in the healer’s tent rather than that drafty library he prefers.</p><p>But it’s ok, Iron Bull enjoys Varric’s tales…until things change and he starts seeing first hand just how crazy that mage from Tevinter really is.  Now the question isn’t whether the stories are true but why the mage seems to have a deathwish.  Bull decides the mage doesn’t just need a teammate he needs a keeper, and surprisingly enough he finds he’s willing to apply for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tall Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the absolute pleasure of working with two wonderful artists. Please go check out their Tumblr pages and reblog their amazing art: [Lackadaisical Lass](http://lackadaisical-lass.tumblr.com/) and [Kid Voodoo](http://kidvoodoo.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I also want to take a moment to thank [Dichotomous-Dragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dichotomous_dragon) for taking the time to beta this piece so many, many times. You are the best, now and always!

 

 

 

“Glad to see ya back.”

Bull chuckled at Cabot’s growl as the man slammed a tankard full of ale in front of him.  “You just miss the gold the Chargers send your way when we’re not here.”

This time it was Cabot who laughed, more of a bark really.  “Like I said, glad to see you back.”

Smiling, Bull headed toward the Charger’s table, motioning for the barmaid, Ilsabeth, to bring another round before sliding into his customary chair at the head of the table.  Krem raised his tankard and tapped it against Bull’s with a nod of his head, but the rest of team ignored his arrival entirely, focused on the tale Varric was weaving at the other end of the table.

“So, before Cassandra could even get her shield up there went the Inquisitor, racing past her, screaming as she swung her axe in a circle, Cassandra’s growl chasing her down.  The giant grabs the closest thing to him which just happens to be a forty foot tree, uproots it and throws it at both of them.  The Inquisitor stumbles to a stop, Cassandra slams into her.  They both hit the ground just as Sparkler throws this ice/fire bolt combo that freezes the tree solid then shatters it into a million burning pieces, leaving only ash to flutter down on the barrier he’d thrown over the Inquisitor and Cassandra.   It was brilliant.”

“What about the giant?” Dalish asked, her eyes wide with something between curiosity and admiration.

Varric shrugged, rubbing his nails on his shirt before adding, “Are you kidding me, after that it was easy.  Hack, slash, arrow to the eye and he was down.”

Bull shook his head, unsurprised that Varric would downplay his own part in the story.  Bull had noticed that for all the attention the dwarf sought out he rarely wanted it focused on his own deeds.  What Bull hadn’t yet figured out was why Varric was constantly talking up the ‘Vint.  And there was no doubt that ever since Dorian had joined the Inquisition that’s exactly what the dwarf had done.  Bull initially thought perhaps it was that Southern mages were more subdued with their abilities versus their Northern counterparts, making Dorian a preening peacock among sparrows, but Varric’s stories went beyond flash and flair into the incredulous.

The spy in him wondered if the tales were Varric’s way of gaining Dorian acceptance with the Inquisition.  Not that Dorian seemed to have any trouble with that within the Inquisitor’s inner circle, in fact the Inquisitor rarely left on a mission without the handsome ‘Vint by her side.  But Bull had seen the way the rest of Skyhold seemed to maintain a discrete distance between themselves and the Tevinter mage; Bull himself had done much the same.  Oh, he’d spoken to Dorian certainly, Skyhold was only so big and eventually you ran into everyone, but if Seheron had taught him anything it was that when it came to ‘Vints a little extra caution went a long way toward staying alive.

Still, caution didn’t mean Bull was blind to the fact that while most of Skyhold was content to ignore Dorian, there were some people who seemed to go out of their way to antagonize the mage.  An image of the old quartermaster, Seggrit, came to mind.  The incident had happened before this last mission of Bull’s and he had been headed down to see if Blackwall wanted to join the Chargers for drinks that night.  In Bull’s mind the man spent entirely too much time alone in the barn, but before he’d been able to issue his invitation, he’d come across Dorian and Seggrit in the lower courtyard.  With night falling, the usually bustling location had been surprisingly empty and Seggrit’s words had carried far too easily to where Bull stood in the shadows.

_“Not sure why the Inquisitor keeps you around ‘Vint.  Got no use for mages, ‘specially not your kind.”_

_“My kind?  I assume you mean devilishly handsome…”_

_“Fucking Imperium.   Blood mages, the lot of you."_

_“I assure you…”_

Dorian’s words had been interrupted by Seggrit spitting on him and stalking away.  Bull could still remember the way his own spine had stiffened, his entire being waiting for the magic he was sure would be released in retaliation.  He had watched Dorian’s hands warily, not certain if the mage would attack with ice or fire, but when no tell-tale flair of magic flowed over him Bull had realized his attention was on the wrong feature.  It should have been on Dorian’s shoulders and the way they had curled slightly in defeat.  The mage hadn’t even bothered to wipe his face off before sighing heavily and heading back into the keep through the kitchen entrance. 

 

 

That had marked the start of Bull actually _listening_ to Varric’s stories.  Some of them plausible, certainly requiring a mastery of the craft, but Bull had seen the evidence of what a skilled mage could do time and time again in Seheron, including the casting of spells from multiple schools of magic like the ice/fire one Varric had just described.

But others, well Bull had trouble believing that Dorian had actually taken out an entire troop of red Templars by himself or that he was responsible for bringing down Hivernal, even if the dragon was vulnerable to Dorian’s preferred fire magic.  Mages just didn’t do that.  They didn’t draw the ire of dragons or wade into the middle of a group of trained warriors.  Not that Bull thought them incapable, it’s just that even the best mage was just so _squishy._  

Tipping his chair back so he could rest his feet on the edge of the table Bull smiled when the barmaid brought another round, resulting in cheers from the Chargers and a grateful nod from Varric.  And when the dwarf launched into another tale Bull couldn’t help thinking he might have to ask the Inquisitor to let him join them on a mission sometime.


	2. Tal-Vashoth

 

(2 months later)

 

_Be careful what you wish for._

That was the only thing Bull could think of as he listened to the Boss tell him she wanted him with her when she left for the Exalted Plains in the morning.  At any other time Bull might have been excited to finally see the boss in action, but as the conversation took place over the bodies of two Ben-Hassrath assassins that had been sent to make certain Bull got the message that he was Tal-Vashoth, the only thing Bull could feel was frustration. 

Blinking down at the bodies he ran that thought through his head a few more times.  Tal-Vashoth.  Tal-Va-Fucking-shoth.  “Don’t need you to coddle me Boss.”

“It’s not coddling to want my best Reaver…”

“It becomes coddling when you’re only doing it to get me out of Skyhold,” Bull argued.

“Did I mention there’d be a dragon?”

Damn, she was a devious thing.  Still, he took it as a compliment she hadn’t tried to insist it wasn’t to get him out of Skyhold.  “I’ll be there Boss.”

 

 

They were two days into the trip when Dorian finally decided to speak to him instead of simply staring back over his shoulder at Bull every five minutes.  Bull hadn’t decided yet if it was because Dorian liked the horns or was expecting Bull to attack at any moment.  “Does it bother you to travel with a bas saarebas Iron Bull?”

Dorian’s pronunciation was wrong, the way he rolled the ‘r’ on his tongue, but it was more the fact he said it at all that startled Bull.  He couldn’t help but wonder if that was what was causing the dark circles under the mage’s eyes.  If he’d been losing sleep waiting for Bull to drop a collar on him and sew his mouth shut.  “Not part of the Qun any longer Dorian.  That just makes you a mage in my book.”

“ _Just a mage_?”  Now Dorian just sounded insulted, his shoulders pressing back as he sat taller in the saddle, and Bull couldn’t help but laugh.

This time it was the Inquisitor who looked over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her face and Bull realized it was the first time he’d actually laughed since that shit with the dreadnaught.  He found he liked the feel of it, both the laugh and taunting the ‘Vint.  “Sorry Dorian, I meant an incredibly handsome, amazingly skilled mage.”

He could almost see Dorian’s feathers settling and Bull didn’t need the mage to turn around again to picture the smile on his face.  “Yes, well, of course you did.”

Varric snorted and Bull could see the dwarf shaking his head slightly as he rode beside Bull but nothing more was said.  Dorian stopped looking back every five minutes though and Bull couldn’t quite decide if he was relieved the tension between them had been cut or disappointed to be deprived of the view.

 

 

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

The sound of Dorian’s voice pulled Bull’s attention away from sharpening his axe, his eye tracking to where the mage sat bundled in a blanket on the other side of the fire.  Bull realized that only the two of them were still up and wondered when the Boss and Varric had retired, and how he had missed it.  Dorian must have taken his confusion to be at his words though and the mage clarified, “For bringing up what you’ve lost.  It was…careless…of me.”

Bull shrugged.  This really wasn’t a conversation he intended on having with anyone, let alone a mage from Tevinter.  Which made it even stranger when he found himself speaking anyway.  “It’s not like it’s something I’m going to forget.”

“No, I suppose not,” Dorian admitted with a chuckle that was less humor and more dark understanding.  “Some things are just like that I guess.”

“Yep.”

The frown on Dorian’s face said the mage heard everything behind that one word and Bull waited and watched as the ‘Vint opened his mouth to speak only to close it again.  Deciding conversation was done for the moment Bull again turned his attention to his whetstone, applying it just so to the blade.  He heard rather than saw Dorian stand, the man’s robes rustling against the log he’d been sitting on.  Flipping his axe over, he was just about to apply the stone to the other side of the blade when Dorian’s voice again cut through the silence.

“You made the right decision Bull.  I know it’s presumptuous of me to say, but there it is.  It was the right thing to do.”

This time when the mage’s robes rustled Bull knew the man was gone.  Which left him to wonder why the words seemed to settle on his frayed nerves like a balm.


	3. Back Line Fighters

 

“I could do this all day!”

Bull wasn’t sure what he was more surprised about, that the mage was laughing as he threw fire bolts and whispered glyphs into existence or that he was doing so while standing at Bull’s shoulder.  Well, not actually at his shoulder, the mage had too much self-preservation for that.  But if he was more than six inches past the range of Bull’s axe Bull would eat a varghest. 

Bull felt the tingle of magic that said Dorian had cast a barrier just as a second wave of demons spawned into existence around them.  He caught Dorian’s staff twirling out of the corner of his eye, the despair demon right before him freezing solid before it had a chance to attack, leaving it wide open to Bull’s axe shattering it into a thousand pieces.  His own bloodlust spurred by the death, Bull watched the Inquisitor rush the lesser terror demon so he moved to take on the greater, leaving the few wraiths for Varric to pick up.  With Dorian refreshing his barrier when it fell and slowing the demons with glyphs, it wasn’t long before they were left alone on the field of battle.  The Inquisitor made short work of the rift before taking a quick heading and resuming her trek toward the repaired bridge they were supposed to be checking on.

“This is never going to come out, Evelyn,” Dorian grumbled, rubbing at a stain on his robe as he made his way gingerly through the assorted puddles of demon remains as though he wasn’t responsible for most of them.

“He’s crazy,” Bull muttered to himself with a shake of his head only to hear Varric laugh behind him.

The dwarf’s hand slapped him on the back as he passed.  “That ain’t the half of it.”

 

 

“I can feel that you know,” Dorian muttered without bothering to turn to face him.

When only silence greeted his proclamation Varric eventually asked, “Feel what Sparkler?”

“The Iron Bull’s gaze drilling into the back of my head.”

Bull startled, not even realizing he had been doing exactly that.  Shit.  “You getting all paranoid again ‘Vint?”

“Me?  Paranoid?  Perish the thought.”

Bull wasn’t certain but he thought he heard the Inquisitor snort.  “I have to admit it’s a rather unique fighting style you have Dorian.”

Dorian’s spine straightened at that.  Veshedan, but the ‘Vint was prickly.  “Yes, I would imagine the lack of a collar allows for significantly more movement than you’re used to seeing.”

“Ouch!” Bull chuckled, more to defuse the situation than from humor.  It hadn’t taken him long to learn that the ‘Vint was prone to playing the evil Qunari card when he felt attacked.  “And no.  Seheron remember.  I’ve seen plenty of ‘Vints fight, it’s just most of them do it from the back lines.  Less chance for dismemberment there.”

“Ah, yes, protect the fragile little mage is that it?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I wouldn’t go there Tiny, not if you value those horns of yours,” Varric whispered just as the Inquisitor turned to level him with a stare.

Bull sighed.  “I just meant that if you’re trying to prove something…”

The flare of flame in Dorian’s palm was enough to have Bull biting back his words, and after a few tense seconds the mage seemed to relax, the flame extinguished with a twist of Dorian’s wrist.  The set of Dorian’s shoulders told Bull he’d been dismissed even before the mage spoke next.  “Kaffas Evie, I had heard that area was mostly forest before the Elves were given this land.  You can hardly tell.”

“Yes, well…”  The Boss’s voice trailed off as she and Dorian kicked their mounts into a canter, leaving Bull behind to wish he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Tried to tell you Tiny,” Varric chuckled with a shake of his head before urging his mount to catch up with the distancing pair.

 

 

Bull was still feeling the effects of Dorian’s cold shoulder treatment later that night and he mulled over possible ways to fix the issue as he sat alone by the campfire carefully polishing his axe.  He hadn’t actually meant to insult the mage, but looking back on it he supposed that’s what he’d done regardless.  Casting a glance over to the tent Dorian and the Inquisitor were sharing he hoped his first trip out with the Boss wouldn’t be his last.  Because if he discounted this incident with Dorian he was actually enjoying himself.  Not as much drinking as he’d be doing with the Chargers, but those rifts made things challenging.

“Did I ever tell you…” Varric clapped his hand on Bull’s shoulder before sitting down next to him.

“Not sure I’m in the mood for a story Varric,” Bull admitted, arching a brow as the dwarf pulled a flask from his tunic and took a sip.

“Antivan brandy,” Varric clarified, nudging the flask Bull’s direction.  “Travels better than ale.  Anyway, this is one story you’re gonna want to know.”

Bull shrugged and took a drink, letting the unique flavor roll over his tongue.  He’d had brandy before, but this one reminded him of the little fruit they grew in Par Vollen.  The ones that fell from the first trees to blossom in the growing season.  Smiling at the memory Bull found himself more inclined to listen to the dwarf’s tale.  As he watched a sly smile bloom on the dwarf’s face, Bull decided that had been Varric’s intention all along.  Sneaky little shit.

“It was the first mission after we found Skyhold.  Things were still a bit tense as you probably remember and Cullen wasn’t happy that her Inquisitorialness wanted to take Sparkler with her to the Western Approach.  Not that the location had anything to do with it.  It’s just, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, Cullen’s hardwired to doubt mages in general and Sparkler hadn’t been around long enough at that point for Cullen to feel certain of him.

“Anyway, the incident happened just a few days after we got to the forward camp.  Scout Harding had told us there were Venatori in the area but we hadn’t anticipated finding them so close to camp.  We fought through the forward scouts no problem, but when the last one broke ranks and darted up the canyon, well, as you may have noticed the Inquisitor has a tendency to become tenacious.”

Bull chuckled at this and passed the flask back to Varric, who took a generous swig before continuing.  “So, off she went, racing down this canyon after the fleeing scout, the Seeker staring at her like she was mad and Sparkler cursing a blue streak in Tevene as we all started after her.  Well, you may have heard the story about the Still Ruins.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.  Of course we didn’t know it was there at the time and so by the time we catch up it’s her Inquisitorialness versus at least ten Venatori and without a choice we waded in.  Thankfully, other than the small scout group, we hadn’t seen anything more threatening that day than a few hyenas so Sparkler’s mana wasn’t depleted.  Anyway, we wade into the fray and have you been there?  To the ruins?”

“Naw, been able to avoid that so far.”

“Lucky man.  So, we’re working our way through the troops, Sparkler and I trying to get to the mages in the back while the Seeker and the Inquisitor are blasting through line troops like nobody’s business and then it happened.  I’m not even sure how, but Dorian and I finally kill the last mage and we can’t see them.  Fuck Bull, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such a panicked look on someone’s face before and Dorian goes charging through into the inner courtyard just in time to see the Seeker go down.  He barely got a barrier up before the brute swung again.  The Inquisitor took the brute down while Sparkler and I finished off the last two marksmen but the damage was done.  The Seeker broke three ribs, punctured a lung, shattered her shoulder so bad it took the healers hours to get her back together once we got back to camp,” Varric broke off with a shudder that seemed at odds to his overtly antagonistic relationship with the warrior.  The dwarf wiped his hand over his face.  “Shit.”

Varric took a gulp of brandy that had him wincing before shaking it off with an embarrassed grin in Bull’s direction.  “Sorry, it was…bad.  Seems like I should be able to come up with a better word than that, but there it is.  Anyway, as far as I know no one ever blamed Sparkler for what happened.  I know Cassandra didn’t.  Shit, there was nothing to blame him for.  You know how it is, things just _happen_.  But ever since then, Sparkler, well, he doesn’t stick to the back lines.”

 


	4. Proving Grounds

 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way Evie, but are you sure your Commander didn’t do these repairs himself?” 

The laugh burst from Bull before he had any hope of containing it, followed quickly by Varric’s and even the two scouts’ who were currently stationed on either side of the ‘repaired’ bridge.

“Dorian!” The Inquisitor cried, shoving at Dorian’s shoulder.  When the mage simply met her scowl with an arched brow she turned to look at the sad patch of lumber and nails before finally giggling herself.  “It is horrible isn’t it?" 

“I can understand that a qualified mason might not enjoy a trip to this land of undead and fade rifts but really Evelyn,” Dorian continued, stretching one booted foot out to daintily test the repaired section of bridge.  “Are you certain it will even hold our weight?”

“Worried about those few extra pounds you’ve put on Sparkler?”  Varric teased, his eyes twinkling as Dorian sputtered next to him.

“Why…I’ve never…I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it Dorian,” Bull chuckled.  “Your ass still looks good to me.”

Whatever response Bull had expected, and part of him was surprised he didn’t have icicles hanging from his horns right now, he hadn’t expected Dorian to turn such a delightful shade of red.  He bit back a laugh as the mage opened and closed his mouth several times, either to make a comment or put forth his best impression of a fish, Bull wasn’t certain which.  And then, just when Bull was certain he was going to end up with a face full of fire the mage just spun around with a dramatic flair of his robes and stormed across the bridge.

“Best hurry before he burns the bridge down with you on it Tiny.”

“Hey, it’s the truth.  How was I supposed to know he was so touchy about his ass?” 

“I heard that!” Dorian shouted back to them, not bothering to slow down as the trio followed him up the road. 

“Should we catch up with him?”  Bull asked, concerned as the mage disappeared around a bend. 

“Probably best to let him be,” the Inquisitor decided before sending Bull a sly grin.  “You do have a way of working him up.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s a gift.”  Bull shrugged and the three of them laughed just as the sound of ice cracking echoed down the valley to them.  “Shit.” 

 _Please don’t let us be too late._   The single thought ran through Bull’s mind over and over again as the trio raced to catch up with the mage, his own feet stumbling to an awkward stop as he rounded the bend and saw the ‘Vint not only alive but…

 

The mage was surrounded by walking corpses and Bull could have been forgiven for dismissing part of Dorian’s prowess on the fact the man was a necromancer so the undead were his kind of folk, but he wasn’t using those skills.  No, instead he had two of the corpses frozen in his ice glyphs, one already dead, again, at his feet when they arrived and a second was dispatched just as quickly with a fireball to the face.  Not counting just on his mana however, Dorian spun, the blade at the end of his staff removing one of the corpses heads as the body crumpled to the ground.  Another glyph, this time a cage of lightning that kept doing damage each time the mindless corpse attempted to walk through it.

By the time Dorian had cast an immolate followed by a wall of fire to drop the two corpses that had been frozen the one in the cage had killed himself and after one last spin on his heels assured him no further corpses had returned to cause havoc Dorian settled the end of his staff on the ground and glared at his companions.

Bull knew he was staring, and it wasn’t like a bunch of reanimated corpses offered the same challenge as a troop of Venatori, but fuck if that wasn’t just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“No, no, don’t bother to help.  I’ve got it,” Dorian growled, wiping a spot of sweat from his brow, his chest heaving. 

“Now Sparkler, we wouldn’t want to deprive you of your fun,” Varric countered good-naturedly, his elbow in Bull’s gut encouraging the Qunari to actually start moving again.  “Besides, the story…”

“Venhedis, if I find you repeating this tale I swear I shall freeze Bianca’s trigger at the most inopportune time.”

“Hey now,” Varric grimaced, patting Bianca gently.  “That’s no way to talk to a lady.” 

Bull smiled, though his attention hadn’t left the area surrounding them.  He wasn’t about to get caught holding his dick a second time.  Which was why he caught sight of the corpses ahead of them before anyone else.  “Boss…” 

“I see them Bull.”

“What has Celene gotten herself into?”

Before anyone had a chance to answer they were neck deep in undead and Bull found a certain rhythm in the way they work as a team.  Dorian tossed up barrier and glyphs as he and the Inquisitor took out the troops near them, Varric hung back where ranged fighters should be and sniped at the weakest opponent. 

At this point they had a solid week of fighting together behind them and he’d learned to anticipate where everyone was going to be which is why he was surprised when an arrow actually tore a groove in his arm.  By the time he registered that Dorian’s barrier had faded Varric was screaming, “Revenant!  Shit!  Sparkler!”

Bull turned just in time to see the heavily armored demon’s sword pierce through the side of Dorian’s robes, impaling the mage on the blade.  A flicker of pain was all that registered on Dorian’s face before he shut his emotions down and Bull saw him start to chant.  Bull hoped it was the spell he thought it was and he started his charge even as Dorian threw himself forward, wincing as the now frozen blade slid back through his body. 

Bull slammed into the frozen demon and staggered to a stop, his axe already swinging to finish the demon off when one of Varric’s arrows beat him to it and shattered the Revenant into pieces.  He dropped down beside the fallen mage as he scanned the battleground to confirm that the Boss and Varric had things in hand before reaching for Dorian only to have his hand slapped away.

“Kaffas, stop man-handling me,” Dorian grumbled, one hand pressed to his side as he reached for a potion.

Bull chuffed out a laugh as he sat back on his heels.  “Veshedan, you’re a tough bastard I’ll give you that.”

Wincing as the potion went down Dorian just looked at Bull cautiously.  “Yes, well, I shall take that as a compliment.”

“Dorian!  What happened?  Are you alright?”

Bull found himself shoved out of the way by all five foot nothing of the Boss, leaving he and Varric to watch as she carefully inspected Dorian from head to toe while the mage swatted at her like an irritated cat.  “I swear Evelyn, I am as good as can be expected considering the hole in my side, but unless you’ve suddenly developed healing powers there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

“We need to go back…”

“Fasta vass, will you quit fussing,” Dorian grumbled, looking at Bull before extending a hand to be helped up.  “I’ve taken one of those wretched potions, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re certain…” the Inquisitor hesitantly agreed after studying Dorian for several moments.

“Yes, yes.  I’m quite certain.”

What _Bull_ was quite certain of was that Dorian had one of the best poker faces he’d ever seen.  That didn’t change the fact that he could feel the mage’s hand shake against his arm until with a final squeeze Dorian released him.

 

 

Bull had only stopped to throw his bags in the tent he and Varric shared before following Dorian’s path to the healer’s tent, only to stop short of entering at the sound of Dorian swearing.

“Kaffas.”

“I’m sorry Messere, the wound is unclean, I must make certain…”

“Yes, yes, I know, wouldn’t want some particle of dirt fused to me forever.”

“Messere?”

“Nothing, forgive me,” Dorian said with a sigh.  “Please continue.”

Leaning against a tree outside the tent Bull decided to wait for Dorian to emerge rather than follow him into the tent.  The damned things weren’t made for people his height and he always had to slouch or risk putting a horn through the roof.  Even prepared for a wait it was late by the time that Dorian finally slipped out the entrance and turned to head toward his tent, drawing up short upon seeing Bull.

“What do you want?” Dorian asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Sounds like you made a bad choice this afternoon,” Bull answered, making certain to keep his tone light.

“I made the only choice possible.”

“We weren’t that far from camp, we could have been back here and still gotten to the fortress in time.”

“Yes, and I’m sure those soldiers would have appreciated our delay.  Nothing like a few more hours spent fending off undead to improve an afternoon.”

“Gut wounds are nothing to mess around with Dorian.”

“Now you sound like Evie.  Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time together.”

“She’s just worried about you…”

“And you, you expect me to believe that you’re worried about me too?  Fasta vass, I’m too tired for this,” Dorian growled, walking past Bull toward the tents.

Bull fell into step beside him, ignoring the soft growl from the mage.  “Believe what you want Dorian.  You’re a good mage, but you keep pulling shit like you did today and you’re going to wind up dead.”

Bull found himself a step ahead as Dorian stopped suddenly, flinging his arms out to the side and hissing, “And yet here I am, in one piece…just like those soldiers we found today.  Are you saying that I should have chosen my life over theirs?  That I shouldn’t have cared that one more day in that accursed place might have killed them?”

“What I’m saying Dorian is you don’t have anything to prove.”

He was surprised to hear Dorian laugh, the sound dark and bitter.  “Are you mad?  I’m a mage.  From Tevinter.  In the south where dozens of my countrymen are currently attempting to take over the known world.  Of course I have something to prove.  I have something to prove to every damn person I meet every damned day I breathe the air down here so if _you’re_ done judging me too, I am in desperate need of sleep and clean robes.  Not necessarily in that order.”


	5. An Olive Branch

 

Bull was still mulling over Dorian’s words almost three weeks later and he was slowly starting to believe that maybe he’d been the asshole Dorian had basically accused him of being.  Of course it was different for him, he was a Quna…well, he used to be a Qunari and so he was used to people staring at him like he was somehow less than them.  In the past he had always just smiled and let them think what they wanted, he knew who he was and the fact that they underestimated him was a good thing. 

But Dorian, for all his preening and posturing, Dorian _cared_.  Which was probably why Bull was still hung up on their last conversation.  It bothered him to think that he’d gotten it so wrong.  He was usually…

The crunch of wood against wood was his only warning before the edge of Krem’s practice shield slammed into his cheek, tearing a groove that immediately sprayed blood.

“Fuck, sorry Chief.”

“My fault Krem,” Bull grumbled, wiping at the blood before setting his feet and raising his shield again.

“Uh,” Krem started, looking down at his own feet before raising his eyes to Bull again.  “Might want to get that looked at Chief.”

“’m fine.  Again,” Bull growled with a shake of his head that threw drops of blood across the training yard.

“Chief…”

“Vishante kaffas.”  Bull turned at the lowly growled words only to groan as he watched Dorian wipe a drop of blood from his cheek.

Fucking figures, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the ‘Vint since they’d arrived back in Skyhold and the first time he does…well, fuck.  “Sorry Dorian.”

Bull watched as Dorian’s eyes went wide then narrowed and Bull half expected to feel that long overdue fire bolt hit him when instead Dorian stepped closer, close enough so Bull could hear him muttering to himself, “’Sorry Dorian’ he says, like he isn’t bleeding like a stuck pig.  Kaffas…”

The mage frowned at him for a moment before speaking again, this time loud enough for Bull to hear.  “This is probably going to hurt,” Dorian admitted as he reached out and grasp Bull’s chin, tilting his head until his hand could reach Bull’s cheek.  Another bit of muttering under his breath and then the skin under Dorian’s touch began to sting, enough to have Bull flinching away.  Dorian’s hand fell to his side, his expression shuttering as he took a step back.  “I did warn you.”

With his typical flourish of robes Dorian was gone before Bull could even register what he’d done.  His own hand rose to find no hint of a wound remaining on his cheek.  Chuckling softly as he watched the mage dart up the stairs and into the tower that led to Cullen’s office Bull decided that as far as an olive branch went, he’d certainly had worse.

“Damn Chief, don’t tell me you’ve gone and gone soft on the ‘Vint.”

Turning towards his lieutenant Bull realized he was still touching his own cheek and he quickly lowered his arm, re-equipping his shield before slamming the front of it with his other hand.  “Stop slacking and get back to work.”

“Yes Chief!”

 

 

Bull was sitting in the tavern later that night, his muscles aching pleasantly from the training and a full tankard within grasp when he caught sight of Dorian walking in, the mage’s attention on the man who was following him.  Bull frowned, not recognizing the blond who seemed to be hanging on Dorian’s every word as the two of them walked out of sight, apparently commandeering a table on the opposite side of the fireplace from Bull since only Dorian reappeared and continued towards Cabot, heading back the other direction momentarily with two glasses and a bottle of what Bull assumed was the pretentious wine the ‘Vint favored.

“Alright Chief?”

The frown on Krem’s face called Bull’s attention to the fact he’d gone tense and was growling softly.  Thankfully not loud enough for anyone else at the table to hear, but he didn’t think he was going to get away with pining after the ‘Vint for the second time that day with his lieutenant.  Fuck, not that he was pining.  “Is it ever hard for you here Krem…you being a ‘Vint and all?”

Krem chuckled, his eyes darting over toward where Dorian was sitting before coming back to Bull.  “Not going to lie and say it’s never an issue Chief, but I’m not a mage.  Most Southerners look at us Soporati as one step above slaves, which I guess we kinda are, so it’s easier for me.  A few dirty looks, maybe I get charged a little more than a Southerner but that happens everywhere.  Not like it wasn’t worse for me at home.”

Bull was already feeling himself get worked up at the thought of his second being looked down on for something he couldn’t change, but he knew better than to fight Krem’s battles for him.  The ‘Vint was stubborn, kinda like someone else he knew.  Bull had to wonder if that was a trait of their whole fucking country.  “What about mages?”

“He’s not going to appreciate you butting in,” Krem answered with a knowing grin and a shake of his head.

“Hey, we’re just talking here, it’s not like I’m going to…”

“Chief…” Krem’s eyes narrowed and Bull knew what the younger man was thinking.

“That was one time Cremisius, and I promised not to do it again.  Besides, this is about something I may have said…”

“Oh Chief.”  Now his lieutenant looked decidedly nauseous which just went to prove he knew Bull too well.  Either that or Cabot’s swill had finally caught up with him.

“It wasn’t that bad.  I just tried to explain that he didn’t need to prove any…”

Bull broke off as Krem’s head hit the table, repeatedly, before his second looked up at him and groaned.  “You’re lucky he didn’t make that mark on your cheek permanent.”

“Hey!”

With a shake of his head Krem scooted closer to Bull, then cast a quick glance around the room to assure himself no one was paying any attention to them before speaking.  “It’s different for Dorian Chief.  People hear ‘Tevinter’ and ‘mage’ and all they see is blood magic.  Doesn’t matter that he’s fighting on our side or that he was the one to warn the Inquisitor about the problem in Redcliffe.”

“Tell me something I don’t know Krem.  Doesn’t make it any less fucked up.”

“That’s reality Chief,” Krem shrugged, nodding toward the fireplace.  “There’s a reason you don’t usually find him here, and certainly not during busy hours.  Sometimes he comes in late, when he doesn’t have to worry about running into any idiots…”  Bull realized he was growling again when Krem broke off suddenly, giving him a scowl of his own.  “Let it go Chief.”

But that was the thing, he couldn’t.  It wasn’t just that it was bullshit.  Or that he didn’t think Dorian could fight his own battles, it was just that, well, he shouldn’t have to.  And maybe he couldn’t change everyone’s opinion of Dorian but maybe he could at least ensure the man could enjoy a drink without worrying about being accosted.  Settling back into his chair Bull ignored the look of concern Krem was giving him and finished his ale.

 

 

Dorian was sitting in his usual nook the next morning, trying to decide when the window had suddenly begun to let in more light when he heard a gruff, “Catch.”

Scrambling for the flask that was flying his way he snatched it from the air while scowling at the huge Qunari that appeared at the top of the steps.  “Fasta vass, what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be in need of that,” Bull answered with a grin and a tip of his head toward the flask.  “Stitches makes the best hangover remedy this side of Par Vollen.”

“And what makes you…” Dorian started, pulling the stopper from the flask and sniffing it with a scrunch of his nose.

“Yeah, smells like shit and tastes even worse, but it’ll cure what ails you,” Bull cheerfully explained, leaning one huge shoulder against the wall at the edge of Dorian’s nook.  “Noticed you at the tavern last night.”

Dorian frowned, then sighed, but downed the contents of the flask with a shudder.  Bull was surprised to see a faint tinge of red to the ‘Vint’s cheeks before he admitted, “I’m sorry I didn’t see you, I would have said hello.”

Bull chuckled.  “You seemed a bit busy.”

“Yes, well,” Dorian broke off, the red darkening on his cheeks as his eyes darted from Bull before returning. 

It really was remarkably easy to rile the ‘Vint, and despite the fact he really didn’t want to think about Dorian and the blond together Bull couldn’t resist needling him a bit further.  “Hey, I understand, pretty boy like that, hard to see anything else.’

By now Dorian was all puffed up like the peacock he so favored, his eyes narrowing at Bull before he finally sighed, rolled his eyes and admitted.  “Kaffas, he was one of Leliana’s.  Poor boy left this morning for Vol Dorma and he wanted to practice his Tevene.”

Bull would deny it to his dying breath, but some small part of him unclenched at that admission.  Only the ‘Vint would be more embarrassed about helping someone than about having a date.  But it hadn’t been a date.  Not that it was his business anyway, but fuck, maybe he might want it to be a little bit his business.  “Have drinks with me and the boys tonight.”

“What?”

“Drinks, tavern, you, me, the boys.”

Dorian just stared at him for several moments as if trying to decide what hidden meaning might lie beneath those six words and Bull found himself surprisingly vested in the mage’s response.  He hardly realized he was holding his breath until finally Dorian nodded sharply, “Alright, fine.  Drinks tonight.”

Unable to hold back his grin Bull just nodded back before turning to head back down the stairs.  “Alright.”


	6. Ice Cold Footsies

 

Bull still wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to accomplish that night out with the Chargers.  Oh, he knew the obvious effect, that of getting the people of the Inquisition to see Dorian as more than just another head stuck up his ass ‘Vint with a passion for blood magic and slaves.  In that he’d been somewhat successful, at least if the reports he heard back from the Chargers in the months since that night had been correct.  Not that most of the common folk around Skyhold still had much use for Dorian, but at least they’d stopped spitting at him and calling him a blood mage to his face.

That night had also had an additional completely unexpected side effect of turning his Dalish into one of Dorian’s biggest champions.  It would seem the ‘Vint had a soft spot in his heart for the only archer in Skyhold who used a staff, and he’d proven quite useful in her learning a few new tricks of the trade.  Of course where Dalish went, Skinner wasn’t far behind and although she still growled and sniped at Dorian, she was also sure to save him a seat whenever he joined the Chargers for drinks.  Which had become a fairly common occurrence when both he and the Chargers were in Skyhold.  The fact he was willing to spot them a few rounds endeared him to Rocky and Stitches, and the fact that he engaged in conversations with Grim even though the other man held up his end of things with grunts even somewhat thawed Krem.  In the grand scheme of things it seemed like everyone was getting along just fine…except, the damn mage was still as much a mystery to Bull as he had been before they started traveling together.

“Kaffas Evie couldn’t you have brought Blackwall instead of me, with all the hair on that man I doubt he’d notice the cold.”

“Dorian!”

"What’s the matter Dorian?  Your footsies cold?” Bull chuckled, thinking this was a perfect example of the whole mysterious ‘Vint thing.  Dorian bitched about everything.  Too hot.  Too cold.  Field rations.  Lack of field rations.  Everything but the important stuff.  Like those assholes back in Skyhold, he’d never heard Dorian say a word against them.  And in battle, fuck Bull had seen Dorian laid low by wounds that would have even had _him_ sitting down to catch his breath only to hear the mage insist they move on.

“My footsies are fine thank you.” 

“I’m just saying, we’re sharing a tent later, if you need someone to warm them for you.” 

“Arrgh, why do I bother?” Dorian growled with a glare over his shoulder at Bull before turning his attention back to the snow and ice covered trails. 

“Gotta admit Ser Fancy Britches has a point,” Sera grumbled from her spot at Bull’s side.  “How’re you running around without your titties freezing off?”

Bull just laughed and slapped his chest.  “You’ve been spending too much time with Krem.  Besides, Qunari are naturally hot blooded.”

“Well stop it, it’s unnatural like.”

“Yeah, I’ll try,” Bull chuckled as he shook his head at the petite archer.  He knew nerves were running high.  As if the snow and ice weren’t bad enough, the trails were so slick right now that even the Boss’s hart had had to be left behind.  Somehow the fact that red lyrium was just sprouting from the ground didn’t seem so bad when you were riding.  Ok that was a fucking lie, it was quite possibly the worst thing Bull had ever seen, perverting the landscape and everything it touched.  But having to be on foot, walking past it…Bull just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was alive, just waiting for one of them to fuck up before it ended them. 

Bull pulled up short when he noticed both the Boss and Dorian had stopped near the ruins of a tower, and the Boss was scanning the surrounding areas intently.  “We’ll make camp here, make out final approach to the keep in the morning.”

Scanning the area himself with a critical eye he realized she’d picked a good location.  High ground, no trees or outcroppings to allow enemy to hide and even more importantly, no red lyrium around.  Maybe they’d actually get their first decent night’s sleep in the four nights they’d been in this Maker forsaken land.

 

 

Lying on his bedroll several hours later Bull was forced to rethink that whole decent night’s sleep thing.  For one thing the combination of cold and slippery ice had left his knee throbbing like a son of a bitch, and even if he could ignore the knee, Dorian was currently shivering loud enough to ensure that sleep wasn’t going to happen.  Bull told himself to just wait it out.  Dawn would come and they’d clear out the keep and get the fuck out of this frozen wasteland.  If Dorian had any desire to join him in his bed the mage certainly knew how to move his sexy ass right on over.  Issuing another invitation was just likely to get Bull’s horns burnt off.

He might have been able to stick to his guns if Dorian’s teeth hadn’t taken the opportunity to start chattering.  “Veshedan.  Dorian, stop being so stubborn and get over here before you freeze to death.”

“Stubborn?” the ‘Vint growled incredulously.  “You mean stubborn like having a knee so stiff you can’t bend it but still not asking for help?”

Shit.  When had the ‘Vint gotten so perceptive?  “I’ll make you a deal, Dorian.  You come over here and warm up and I’ll let you fix any part of me that catches your eye.”

Dorian laughed, not that horrible dark, fake sound Bull so often heard from the mage but a light happy noise that actually warmed some small spot in Bull’s gut.  “If that’s the best you’ve got the stories have gotten tall indeed, _The Iron Bull_.”

“Hey, it’s late and I’m offering to warm those frozen feet of yours, you want seduction too?”

Fuck.  Bull knew the minute the words left his tongue they were the wrong one.  If there was anything he’d learned about Dorian it’s that the man had placed any sort of intimacy at about the same level as the ale Cabot brewed…something forbidden that was bound to leave a bad taste in your mouth.  Bull sighed.  “I didn’t mean anything by that, Dorian.  My offer was for a warm place to sleep tonight, that’s all.”

 

Dorian was quiet for so long Bull was certain he was just going to pretend the offer had never been issued at all.  Breathing out another sigh Bull settled back against his bedroll and closed his eyes just in time to hear rustling from the other side of the tent.  “Yes, well…fine.  I may be able to help with your knee, in any case.  We can’t have you limping into battle now can we?” 

Bull smiled, unable to shake the feeling that he’d won a major battle.  Before he could say anything a shadow shot from Dorian’s side of the tent over to Bull’s where he barely had time to lift the furs and blankets before Dorian snuggled under them.  Dropping the covers over them both Bull drew in a startled breath at just how cold the mage actually was.  It was like snuggling with an icicle.  “Fuck Dorian, you’re about frozen through.”

Dorian’s affronted snort was somewhat ruined by the fact the mage practically melted against Bull’s side.  At least right up until he realized he was pressed firmly against Bull’s naked flesh, then the ‘Vint went stiff as a board.  “Kaffas Bull.”

Bull shrugged.  “My bed, my rules.”

“I am NOT…”

“I told you, your virtue’s safe with me Dorian.”

“I suppose it saves me the time of digging beneath that circus tent you wear,” Dorian grumbled as settled back down, his hand reaching down to curl around Bull’s bad knee, a warm heat spreading through the overworked joint as Dorian’s capable fingers began massaging the tense muscles.  Even knowing there was nothing sensual meant by the act it was difficult for Bull to ignore the fact that every press of the mage’s fingers against his flesh was going straight to his cock.  A detail Bull was doing his best to keep Dorian from figuring out as he swallowed another moan of pure relief, his overworked muscles finally beginning to relax under Dorian’s unrelenting attack. 

Forcing himself to remain absolutely still as Dorian’s hands shifted to knead at the muscles above his knee Bull bit his lip to keep from begging Dorian to never stop…or to keep right on moving up until he reached Bull’s more interested parts.  By this point the mage had almost entirely disappeared beneath the covers, Dorian’s body moving lower until the man had both of his hands wrapped around Bull’s knee, heat suffusing the entire area as his fingers shifted to press into the back of the joint.  And if that was pure bliss then feeling Dorian’s breath feather-light against his hip was torture and Bull was finally forced to shift slightly.  “Think I’m good Dorian.”

The mage’s head popping out from under the furs only served to send another spike of desire straight to Bull’s cock.  Dorian’s brows knit together in a frown.  “But you’re still…”

“Any better and I’d be too weak to walk, really.  Go to sleep,” Bull managed to growl, at least one of them should get some sleep tonight.

“If you’re certain,” Dorian acknowledged hesitantly, his eyes searching Bull’s face for several moments before turning his back to Bull and laying his head down. 

“Hey Dorian?”

Dorian turned back over onto his back, looking over at Bull with a small frown.  “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Dorian just smiled, a soft sleepy little thing and Bull felt something in his stomach twist, his own lips curling up in response as Dorian turned back onto his side.

Tucking the blankets back up around the mage’s shoulders Bull tried to ignore the feel of Dorian’s hair brushing against his arm like strands of silk pouring across his skin as he listened for the ‘Vint’s breathing to level out.  And despite the fact he’d believed his inappropriate thoughts would keep him up all night, Bull found that when Dorian finally relaxed against him, his skin pressed warm and soft against Bull’s side, he actually found sleep himself.

 


	7. Red Hot Giants

 

The morning had started well enough, although Bull had to believe it would have been better if Dorian had still been nestled up snug against him when he woke.  Instead he had found himself alone in the tent, even all of Dorian’s belongings had disappeared.  Suddenly in a hurry he swung his legs off the cot, his one arm moving to aid the left leg since his knee never worked well first thing in the morning only to realize he needn’t have bothered.  Straightening and bending the injured joint he found that his range of motion was much better than it had been since they had set foot in this freezing land.  

Snorting softly he wished even more than before that the ‘Vint hadn’t fled the tent so damn early this morning, and there was no doubt in Bull’s mind that that was exactly what had happened.  Rushing through dressing and making certain his brace was tightened correctly Bull tucked his bedroll back into a pack and stepped out of their tent to find that not only was he the last one up but the rest of camp had already been struck.

“Nice of you to join us princess,” Sera chortled, the fletching of one of her arrows tickling him behind the ear.

“Shoulda woke me.”

“Tried that.  Ser Fancy Britches threatened to burn my arrows,” Sera grumbled, moving to yank at one of the tent stakes.  “Oi, help out will ya?”

Still trying to get over the thought of Dorian wanting him to sleep in Bull grinned as he moved to the other side of the tent, he and Sera making short work of pulling it down and packing it away also before he asked the question he really wanted to.  “Speaking of the ‘Vint, where is he?”

“Quizzie was getting antsy, he went out to scout with her.”

Bull frowned.  “How long have they been gone?”

“Awwww, look at you, all worried like,” Sera chuckled, ignoring Bull’s growl as she wrapped both her arms around one of his and nodded her head.  “Look, there they are, once piece and everything.”

Seeing the ‘Vint walking back arm in arm with the Boss, both of their heads tilted towards each other as they spoke Bull felt the tension in him release with a rueful smile.  Bull told himself he was being foolish to worry, not to mention the ‘Vint would probably freeze him in place if he had a clue how close Bull had been to going after them.  Instead Bull hefted his axe, sliding it into his shoulder harness and prepared to hear what the pair had discovered.

 

 

By early afternoon they were deep into the keep.  It had been as well protected as their original intel and further investigation had suggested.  Red Templars practically oozed from every crack and crevice of the keep which had kept them all on their toes, but it was the sight of the giant that had provided them with their first big challenge.  Fuck.  Like giants weren’t challenging enough on their own those Venatori bastards just had to try infusing one with red lyrium?  It was like trying to cut down a mountain, and by the time they had taken the damned thing down the four of them fell right alongside it trying to catch their breath. 

“Everyone in one piece?”  The Boss’s huffed question was met by a chorus of affirmatives. 

“Shall we finish this?”  This time the affirmatives were more like grunts but the group stood and made ready as they picked their way through the courtyard. 

The Inquisitor was in the lead, no matter how many times Bull tried to convince her to let him go first the blasted woman always insisted on charging in, followed by Dorian and Bull almost shoulder to shoulder with Sera bringing up the rear.  It was the same formation they’d used all day.  Shit, it was the same formation they’d used for months.  Which was why later, when he replayed the scene over and over in his head, Bull could never figure out what had changed.

Maybe the Boss had gotten a couple steps too far in the lead, or Sera too far behind.  He could swear he was just as close to Dorian as he always was but when they turned at the end of the courtyard to confront a red Templar archer Bull caught movement out of the corner of his eye only a second before the giant threw a boulder the size of a druffalo.  He felt rather than saw the magic that flew past his skull, his own axe severing the Templar almost in two as chunks of stone the size of nugs fell from the sky.  

He had no idea how much magic Dorian poured into the barrier that held under the face of that assault, but he knew when he turned to say something to the mage that Dorian hadn’t been beneath it.  Bull had enough time to take in the sight of Dorian lying broken beneath two stones, blood pouring from a gash at his temple and his left arm twisted, obviously broken, before he saw red.  He heard the Boss call for help and turned, the spike of despair disappearing and a feral smile curling on his lips.  He roared a challenge as he headed towards the giant and the scattering of Red Templars who surrounded it.

He couldn’t tell you how many Templars fell under his blade before he finally registered the Boss was calling his name, but by the time he came back to his senses the snow ran red beneath him.  Even then he might have gone looking for the blood of more enemies to coat his blade had Sera not called out, “He’s still breathing.” 

He knew the surprise he saw on the Boss’s face was mirrored on his own as they both turned and moved quickly back to where Sera knelt in the snow by Dorian’s side.  The Inquisitor fell by the ‘Vint’s other side, leaving Bull to stand over them as her capable hands began moving over Dorian’s body in a way he’d seen too many times before.  Only this time the ‘Vint wasn’t shoving at her and the Boss’s expression only got bleaker and bleaker the further she looked.  When she finally stilled he knew it wasn’t going to be good even before she sighed heavily and looked up at him with stricken eyes.  “I don’t know…”

“Go for a healer?”  Sera questioned, popping to her feet and beginning to pace, her teeth worrying at her lower lip until Bull smelled blood. 

“Can’t stay here,” Bull grumbled, surprised at how badly he wanted to drop down next to Dorian and make certain for himself that the mage was still breathing.  He contented himself with constantly scanning the area to make certain they weren’t ambushed while they made their decision.  “Do we move him Boss?”

“Maker Bull, I don’t know.  It may kill him but if we stay here and more of those Templars show up they may kill him anyway.”

“So we move him.”

The Inquisitor sighed heavily, reaching out to cup Dorian’s cheek before standing.  “Yeah, we move him.  Sera, get to the forward camp and let them know we’re coming.”

“But that only leaves you if you see…" 

“Sera!”  The Boss’s voice was harsher than Bull had ever heard it and it was then he realized that Dorian would most likely be dead before they could make forward camp. 

“Going,” the archer whispered and was gone before the word faded.

Unwilling to accept the Boss’s diagnosis Bull holstered his axe before bending to scoop up the ‘Vint who somehow seemed much smaller and lighter than he had anticipated.  Nodding at the Boss to move out ahead of him Bull shifted Dorian until he could feel the man’s breath against his throat.  Tipping his own head down he gave in to the need to brush his lips across the top of the ‘Vint’s head before whispering fiercely, “Don’t you dare die on me.”


	8. But Who Saves You?

 

Following their own path back down from the keep Bull was aware of the irony in the fact that if Dorian hadn’t taken the time to work on his knee the night before he most likely wouldn’t have had the strength in it to carry Dorian off that mountain.  As it was by the time they reached forward camp Bull’s entire focus was on two things, watching the Boss moving in front of him to ensure he kept to the trail and the soft exhale of Dorian’s breath against his skin that proved the mage still lived.  Which is why when they finally entered camp and he found himself surrounded by people he didn’t know, people that kept reaching for Dorian and trying to move him so that Bull could no longer feel that subtle exhale Bull found himself snarling and turning away.

If it hadn’t been for the Boss’s soft hands reaching out to cup his cheek and tell him it was ok now Bull doubted he would have been able to let Dorian go.  But in the end he did the right thing, actually braving the horrible healing tents to lay the mage down gently on an unoccupied cot before stepping back to let the healers near.

“Let them work Bull,” the Boss encouraged, pulling him away from the cot Dorian lay so still on.  She shoved him toward a barrel in the corner of the room, as though she knew he wouldn’t be content without having visual confirmation that the mage still breathed.

Sinking heavily onto the cask Bull looked the Boss in the eyes for the first time since they started their trek down the mountain.  He wasn’t sure what he intended to ask, but when the words came they surprised him.  “Was it my fault Boss?”

Her laugh drew glares from the healers working around Dorian’s bedside but apparently being the Inquisitor had some perks since she ignored them and focused just on Bull.  Moving closer until she was standing between his legs her delicate hands rose to cup both sides of his face before she answered. 

“You have met our favorite mage haven’t you?  The one that thinks he’s indestructible?  Only Dorian knows what happened, but I can almost promise you that nothing you could have done would have changed things.”

The two warriors stood watching the healers for some time before Bull felt the smaller woman lean heavily against him.  “Go get some rest Boss, some food.  I’ll watch out for him.”

She looked like she was going to argue but when she opened her mouth only to have a huge yawn escape she finally relented.  “Alright Bull, but promise me you’ll get some rest too.”

“Yeah Boss.”  The lie had come easily to his lips.  Apparently his Ben-Hassrath training wasn’t fully lost now that he was Tal-Vashoth.  In reality, he had no intention of moving from this spot until he knew that the ‘Vint was going to pull through.

It had taken hours and one painful visit from a nervous Sera, who he had sent off to rest with the assurance that he would let her know as soon as he knew something, but one of the mages finally dared to approach him and let him know that the worst of the wounds had been treated. 

In addition to the arm which had been broken in three places, the stones had broken two ribs, cracked four more, broken his right ankle and caused some serious bruising to his left hip which they had unfortunately had to leave untreated along with the numerous cuts and scrapes simply because they had exhausted themselves on the more serious wounds.  There had been some internal bleeding which they had been able to stop and they believed that the head wound was indicative of a concussion because of the way his pupils were blown.  If he survived the night they believed he had a decent chance of recovering although the recommendation was that he be moved as soon as possible to Skyhold where there were simply more spirit healers available should complications arise.

Allowing himself to sink down onto the chair the healer had brought over to Dorian’s bedside Bull reached out to grab Dorian’s hand.  Twining his fingers with ‘Vint’s he was forced again to realize just how small the mage actually was when compared to him.  Funny how the man always seemed larger than life.  Closing his eyes he found himself drifting somewhere between dream and memory.

 

_“Big heroes, us.  That was…that was great!”_

_Bull looked over at where the petite blond archer was laughing into the face of the now dead dragon and felt his own laugh bellow forth.  “Fuck yeah!”_

_“I’m not sure about the two of you,” the Boss said with a shake of her head that did nothing to hide the giant smile on her face._  

_“Awww, come on Quizzie,” Sera chuckled, bounding over to wrap one arm around the Boss’s neck while pointing at the dead dragon’s snout with the other.  “She was all phwoar and we were all RAWR and she was all ph…bam.  We win.”_

_Bull laughed again as he looked down the long lines of the dragon.  Ataashi.  Shit, she was glorious.  Even now he could still feel her, all muscle and magic, sinew and power, so much fucking power she about blew_ him _over when she flapped those wings.  Baring his teeth he didn’t bother to check the roar of victory that rumbled up from his chest._  

_His voice faded away to absolute silence, even the birds had ceased their incessant chirping in the face of his dominance.  It might have grown to be embarrassing had Sera not picked that exact moment to let loose another of her deep laughs.  “Yes, that…that right there.”_

_Ok, so maybe it was a little embarrassing but veshedan, they had downed a fucking dragon.  Stepping closer to the beast Bull hoped he was the only one to notice that his hands actually shook a little as he reached out to touch those incredible scales.  Black as midnight and hard as stone, still warm from the sun.  He could swear he could still feel the remains of the electricity that had pushed through her tickling his fingers.  He wondered if that was even possible, was a dragon’s magic linked to the Fade or…  “Hey Dorian!”_

_“Yes?”_

_Startled at the quiet word spoken almost in his ear Bull turned to glare at the two women that began laughing all over again.  Shit, he couldn’t believe he let Dorian get the drop on him.   “Fuck Dorian, don’t do that.”_

_“Oh, so it’s my fault you didn’t notice me approach because you were fondling a carcass.”_

_“I wasn’t…ok, so maybe just a little but look at her,” Bull admitted with a low growl, surprised to see a flare of heat in Dorian’s eyes before the mage adopted his usual bored expression._

_“I believe I saw enough of it when it was trying to consume us for lunch.”_

_“Hey, growing girl like her has to eat.”_

_“Lovely.  Was there something you needed or did you just think I deserved to be part of your little adoration session?”_

_“Huh?  Oh, yeah, the lightning, mmmm, lightning.  Does it come from the Fade like yours does?  Cause I could swear…”  Bull couldn’t resist touching the beast again, still able to feel the same tingling in his hands.._

_Dorian chuckled and shook his head.  “No, dragons make their own somehow, much like storm clouds I should imagine, though I admit I’ve never wanted to delve deep enough into one to confirm the theory.  What you’re feeling is the residual current she didn’t have time to use.”_

_“Ah!  See, you called her a she, you do care,” Bull teased, disappointed when the tingling finally stopped._

_“Kaffas, it’s like talking to Sera,” Dorian complained with only a hint of his usual frown before turning to head back toward the Inquisitor._  

_He was still wondering what that lack of a frown meant when Dorian turned back toward him and actually smiled.  “Oh, and Bull…there’s one more you know.  Vinsomer breathes electricity.”_

_Bull was so stunned by the smile, or more importantly the way it actually reached all the way to Dorian’s eyes for once, leaving the normally stormy grey orbs almost twinkling, that it took him a moment to process what the man had actually said.  Another dragon._  Vinsomer _._  

_“Hey Boss!”_

 

Bull shook his head, scattering the memory and pulling his thoughts back to the present as he looked down on the man lying so still and pale on the cot beside him, a man who bore so little resemblance to the vibrant mage in his memory.  Bull wasn’t sure why that thought had come to him, why of all the fights they’d stood shoulder to shoulder in since then that one was on his mind, but he had a feeling it was because of that smile.  Damn the ‘Vint and that smile.  He was pretty certain he’d do just about anything to see that smile again.  “You got that Dorian?  I haven’t seen anywhere near enough of that smile, so don’t even think about dying on me.”

 

  

Three days later Bull was no longer quite so concerned about the ‘Vint actually dying, but he was more than ready to see those tempestuous grey eyes of his.  The healers had warned them before they left Emprise that the odds of Dorian waking any time in the next day or two were slim, which had actually been a blessing since the ride that would normally have taken a day and a half on horseback had taken them three by cart and the route had been less than ideal.  As a result some of Dorian’s less severe wounds had reopened along the way, causing the mage to lose blood he hadn’t had to spare in the first place.  Once they reached Skyhold there had been enough healers to close even the smallest of Dorian’s wounds but by then the damage had been done and all they could do was wait.

“Really done with the waiting thing Dorian,” Bull growled softly, any heat in his words offset by the gentle way he brushed Dorian’s hair away from his brow.

Watching as the ebony strands fell right back against the mage’s forehead Bull smiled softly at the thought of just how much younger Dorian looked like this.  His normally immaculately curled mustache lay in a natural downward curve and his hair was splayed against the pillow like a rather sooty crown.  Dorian would hate it, Bull decided with a chuckle, but he had to admit he kind of liked the softer Dorian.  Now if the blasted man would just… 

A soft groan was followed by Dorian’s brows knitting together in a scowl and Bull found himself leaning forward so far he almost fell out of his chair.  “Dorian?”

“Fasta vass, I feel like I was trampled by druffalo,” Dorian grumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Just a giant and his pet rock,” Bull clarified, breathing a sigh of relief as Dorian’s eyes finally blinked open before narrowing again as the memory obviously came back to him.

“Sloppy of me,” Dorian whispered with a grimace before trying to sit up.  “Evie!  She’s alright?”

Bull pushed the mage back down, surprised when he went without his usual bitching.  “Stay put.  And she’s fine.  That was one hell of a barrier you threw Dorian.”

“Mmmmm, was wasn’t it?” A little half smile played at the corner of the mage’s lips even though his eyes had closed again.

Bull’s own expression hardened, some of the concern he’d been feeling for the last several days warping to anger now that he knew the ‘Vint was really going to be ok.  “Care to explain why you weren’t under it?” 

Dorian’s eyes snapped back open at the tone he heard in Bull’s words, the ‘Vint’s own eyes sharpening like flint.  “Excuse me?”

“See, I’ve been over it a dozen times in my head and it doesn’t add up.  We were in the same formation as always.  At first I thought maybe the Boss was too far ahead or somehow I got away from you but it wasn’t that.  You did it.  You made the choice to leave yourself exposed.” 

Dorian’s glare was somewhat ruined by the fact he was having to give it from flat on his back.  A fact he apparently realized as he again struggled to sit up, finally accepting Bull’s assistance as he grabbed a couple of pillows from an adjacent empty cot and tucked them behind Dorian’s back.  Breathing heavily at the minor exertion Dorian muttered a quiet, “thank you.”

“Yep.”  Bull acknowledged, still having trouble seeing the usually self-sufficient man struggling.  “Now, care to explain why you put yourself in danger?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The look of absolute confusion on Dorian’s face almost broke Bull’s resolve.  “The barrier, Dorian…”

The mage looked down, his long nimble fingers plucking at the edge of the sheet in a nervous way that was so very unlike him that it was Bull’s turn to frown.  “It wouldn’t have held you see.  The barrier.  Not if I had had to cast it over all of us so I made it smaller, allowed it to thicken and strengthen.  I thought I was far enough away…”

“Dorian…”

This time the mage growled, his eyes finally darting up to meet Bull’s with a flash of fire in them.  “Fine.  I knew I wasn’t far enough away but you and Evie were more important.  There, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Bull settled back in his chair as if he’d been struck.  He was Ben-Hassrath, or had been at least, Dorian’s words shouldn’t surprise him and yet they did.  In a split second in the middle of battle Dorian had weighed his own life against Bull’s and found Bull’s to be more important.  It was, it was…fuck, he didn’t know what to call it but it shook the very foundation that Bull’s entire life had been built on. 

Not that he didn’t know about sacrifice, hell, being a soldier had been _bred_ into him, but so was self-preservation.  He would do anything for the Boss, for his boys, he’d walk into any impossible situation to save them.  But to put himself in front of the actual axe, to walk off the cliff first…well, he couldn’t save anyone if he was dead.  He barely recognized the voice as being his own as he asked, “Why?” 

“Why?” Dorian echoed, as if he couldn’t comprehend the question.  “Seriously?  The Inquisition needs Evie.  Venhedis, all of Thedas needs her.  And the Chargers need you, and the work you do.  Even Sera is needed, though if you tell her I understand why she plays all those abysmal practical jokes I’ll freeze your horns off.” 

“And what about you Dorian?”

“What about me?”  Dorian’s confusion was evident in his tone.

“Who saves you?”

Dorian slumped back against the pillows, a frown still on his face as if Bull had been speaking Qunlat instead of common.  In an instant it all became clear to Bull, so horribly, pathetically clear just how little value Dorian really thought he had, not only to the Inquisition as a whole, but also to those who considered him a friend.  He could no more stop himself from reaching out to the mage than he could stop the pain in his chest at the realization that Dorian thought himself expendable. 

Reaching out to cup Dorian’s face in one huge palm, the mage’s eyes dropped shut as Bull’s thumb brushed across his cheek.  “Just rest Dorian, we’ll talk later.”


	9. Mine

 

“Where are we going?”  Dorian wasn’t quite back to his usual whiny tone but it was close enough to that Bull couldn’t help but smile as he nudged the mage up the steps.

“Well I hardly pulled you off that mountain just to throw you from the battlements now.”

“Somehow that isn’t putting my mind at ease.”

“Hey, it’s a nice day, you’re finally free of that blasted tent…”

“You’re just bitter because your horns got caught,” Dorian chuckled, pausing for a moment when they reached the top of the battlements to look out over the snow-swept mountains.

“It was only once, and I told you, those tents…”

“Aren’t made for someone of your impressive stature, yes, yes, I heard you the first time,” Dorian chided, turning away from the view to lean against the stone as if it were a choice and not a result of the fact he was tiring already.

It didn’t work, and Bull’s own eye narrowed as he reached for the mage’s elbow, somewhat surprised when Dorian allowed the contact.  “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“I still say you’re sounding rather ominous,” Dorian argued but followed along as Bull tugged him toward the door set into the tower opposite the stairs, the tower that was connected to the tavern.  Dorian’s footsteps finally faltered as he realized their destination.  “Bull, I don’t…”

“What’s the matter Dorian, afraid to be seen going into a bedroom with the big bad Tal-Vashoth?”

Dorian just snorted before continuing on into the room.  “Please, you should be more concerned with the dear folks of Skyhold believing you’ve been corrupted by the evil Tevinter Magister.”

Bull’s hand shot out, stopping Dorian in the doorway, a frown crossing his brow.  “Are people still bothering you?”

“What? Oh, no Bull, I was just…” Dorian broke off as he realized that he’d reached out one hand to lightly lay against Bull’s chest as he spoke.  Snatching his hand back he walked fully into the room, his keen grey eyes taking in everything as he spun in a slow circle.  “Interesting choice in décor.  I wouldn’t have thought of putting a hole in the wall there.”

Bull shut the door and then leaned against it, trying to gauge Dorian’s mood.  He hadn’t actually brought Dorian here to do anything more than talk, but he’d have to be blind to miss the little glances the mage was shooting at him.  “At least I always know what the weather’s like outside.”

Dorian’s laugh was a brittle thing, over too soon as the mage dared to shoot him another quick glance.  “I suppose there is that.”

“You can sit down Dorian, I’m not planning on pouncing on you.”

Dorian finally stopped his perusal of Bull’s belongings to turn his attention back to the warrior.  “Not to sound unappreciative for this little outing, but what exactly _am_ I doing here?”

It was Bull’s turn to be uncertain.  Not because he didn’t know what he wanted to say but more from being unclear about his own motivations.  Somehow over the course of the past several months his idle curiosity about the ‘Vint had morphed into concern and something that struck a little closer to his center.  Flopping down on one of the oversized chairs in the corner of the room Bull listened to it creak ominously before resting his elbows on his knees.  “I don’t know where you got the idea that you’re any less important to the Inquisition than any of the rest of us Dorian but I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong.”

“What the void are you going on about?” Dorian scowled, his shoulders pushed back and chest puffed out like the proud peacock he was named after.

The problem was Bull didn’t just see the peacock anymore, he saw the little lines that bracketed Dorian’s mouth and the way his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Bull’s, like he was afraid of what Bull would see in them.  “You heard me and you know exactly what I mean.  You’re a great mage Dorian, quite possibly the best I’ve ever seen, but you can’t save everyone…especially not to the exclusion of your own safety.”

“Says the man who walks into battle in a pair of pants that belong in a bordello,” Dorian hissed, his hand flailing toward Bull.

“I wear vitaar Dorian, and this isn’t about me.”

“What I fail to understand is why we’re having this conversation in the first place.” 

By this point Dorian was pacing, and Bull counted it as a win that the mage hadn’t yet made use of any of the three doors to simply leave.  “We’re having it because you matter Dorian.”

Dorian’s chuff of disbelief was bitter but he at least stopped pacing, though he wouldn’t turn to look at Bull and his words, when he finally started speaking, would have been too soft to hear if Bull’s ears weren’t so sensitive.  “It’s my fault Bull, don’t you understand?  The time magic, Alexius would have never gotten it to work without the theories I aided him with.  How many more of my ideas did he pass on to the Venatori?  To Corypheus?  Don’t you see?  If I had been quicker, agreed to help Alexius, perhaps I could have convinced him of the futility of his plans.”

“Dorian, you can’t hold yourself responsible for the actions of some ancient ‘Vint asshole.  Someone who thought he had the right to walk into the house of the gods.”

“If not me then who?” Dorian growled, finally turning to face Bull, his expression full of rage.  “You tell me who in the Inquisition we can afford to lose.  Cullen?  Cassandra?  Varric with his connection to Hawke?  I’m one man Bull, one fucked up mage from Tevinter of all places.  If someone has to fall it makes sense…”

“ _No!_ ”  Bull’s denial was a roar that would have shook the windows if he’d had any.  He leapt to his feet, stalking toward Dorian with the intent of, fuck, he didn’t know, but quite possibly shaking some sense into that thick ‘Vint skull of his. 

“It’s not your choice Bull,” Dorian snarled quietly, his own expression as fierce as that of the warrior’s as he stood his ground.

“Don’t you get it Dorian?” Bull’s own voice was like gravel as he squared off with the mage, so close now that he could feel Dorian’s breath as he exhaled.   “You matter to _me_.”

The look of absolute confusion on the mage’s face would have been comical if Bull’s emotions weren’t already pushed to the edge.  Instead the two just stared at each other for several long moments, long enough for Bull to note the scattering of freckles on the bridge of Dorian’s nose making him wonder if they were part of the reason for that gold dust the mage always seemed to be covered in.  Which in turn made him wonder what else he’d find if he ever had the time to explore every inch of the mage this closely.  It was a heady thought, but one he found himself almost instantly regretting as Dorian’s eyes narrowed on him as if he’d read Bull’s thoughts. 

The telltale feel of magic washed across his skin but Bull refused to fear Dorian.  Instead Bull kept his eye firmly locked with Dorian’s own grey ones until the threat of attack was extinguished and Dorian turned from him with a sigh.  “How can I matter to you, you don’t even know me.”

“You keep telling yourself that ‘Vint, but you don’t fight shoulder to shoulder with someone for months without learning a little bit about what makes them tick,” Bull growled, his tone softening as he watched Dorian’s shoulders curl defensively. “Like the fact that you’ll bitch about the weather and what color shirt Varric is wearing but never about being wounded until you fall face first in the dirt.  And even then you leave the healing tent as soon as you can get your feet under you, whether you should or not just so that the Boss doesn’t ever have to go out without you.  You’ll use what spirit magic you have to heal a wound on my cheek that was my own fault but swig healing potions rather than wasting mana on yourself.  But mostly I know that someone, somewhere convinced you that you aren’t important enough to come first even with yourself and I’m telling you that stops now.”

Bull knew he’d gone too far when Dorian spun back to face him, his face so pale that Bull could swear he’d seen corpses with more color.   But that didn’t stop Dorian’s eyes from practically shooting daggers at him, the mage’s hands flexing as blue electricity sparked from finger to finger and crawled up his arms like some twisted elemental pet.  For a moment Bull forgot his vow to never be afraid of the mage, stumbling back two steps as Dorian advanced.  “Never presume to tell me what to do with my own life Bull.  More determined men than you have tried and failed.  I don’t know what game you’re playing but I’m done.”

With a growl that would have done the Arishok proud Dorian shoved past Bull, the electricity that still sparked on his skin arched to tingle against Bull’s shoulder before dissipating.  For all of two seconds Bull told himself to let it go.  There were certainly easier bedmates to be found and after this little incident it wasn’t like he’d be invited to go out with the Inquisitor anytime soon.  Yep, that would have been the smart thing to do and Bull hadn’t survived for eight years in that cesspool Seheron by being stupid.

Which did nothing to explain why as Dorian opened the door Bull found himself across the room, reaching around the mage to slam it shut again.  This close it was impossible to ignore just how much larger than Dorian he was.  Impossible to ignore the fact that though the mage frequently seemed larger than life, in reality he barely reached Bull’s shoulders.  Short enough that Bull had to lean his head so far forward to reach Dorian’s ear that his horns scrapped against doorframe.  Drawing in a deep breath Bull couldn’t hold back the low growl of arousal that the smell of Dorian always seemed to draw out of him.  “No game Dorian.  Whether you believe me or not you’re mine and I’m saying no more.  No more making me wonder if today is the day you get yourself killed because you’re too damn stubborn to believe that someone might just care about you.  So run if that’s what you need to do.  I’m not going to stop you, but I’m also not going to stop caring about you either.  When you get tired of running, my door’s always open.” 


	10. Running

 

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian growled, letting a fireball fly into the stone merlon as he dropped to one knee and spun ninety degrees and raised a wall of ice that would protect his back.  Lunging forward he let his staff spin in a downward arc that would have taken out almost any enemy had he been truly fighting and not just attempting to wear his body out enough that his mind would follow. 

The wall of ice shattered and fell into a puddle behind him as Dorian stood and wiped his brow surprised to see that the sun was almost ready to dip behind the mountains.  He’d known he’d been out here awhile, but he hadn’t thought it that long.  With a soft sigh he retrieved his robe from where it lay on an empty supply crate and took a few moments adjusting buckles until he was satisfied with the way the robe fell. 

Settling his hip against the crate Dorian was forced to admit that although the impromptu practice session had been physically fulfilling, his mind was nowhere near settled.  This is how it had been for the past several days, ever since that fateful day he’d fled from Bull’s room like a scared child.

And no matter how much Dorian tried to convince himself otherwise that’s exactly what he had done.  At first he had tried to tell himself that The Iron Bull didn’t know anything about him, that for all of his Ben-Hassrath training the warrior was so off-base when it came to his accusations that they didn’t deserve further thought.

But think about them Dorian did.  When he was in his nook researching, while playing chess with Evie in her tower, even when trying to obliterate any chance of thought with a bottle of Tevinter whiskey he’d found stashed in Evie’s private cellar his mind had gone round in circles.  First it had been anger, after all the way Bull made it sound Dorian was tempting death on a daily basis which wasn’t exactly true.  And he had meant what he told Bull.  If the situation was looked at logically and a sacrifice had to be made, he was the best choice.  But some small part of him wondered if Evie would see things the same way if he asked her.  Probably not, but then his Evelyn was a sentimental sort.  Perhaps Cullen would be a better choice to ask.

And so yesterday he had sat in the Chantry garden with Cullen and tried to work his way around to asking that question only to find that it refused to fall from his tongue.  Instead they had talked about Cullen’s family and he had found himself telling Cullen about the summer he and Felix had frozen Alexius’ pond over so that they could ice-skate in the middle of the summer and for the first time he found himself wondering if maybe he wasn’t such an outsider after all. 

 

Dorian shivered, pulling him from his thoughts to realize that the sun had truly set now and as he found himself walking back through the keep to his rooms he sighed as he realized that perhaps Bull hadn’t been quite as wrong about him as he’d originally thought.  Not that that changed the fact that the warrior had been beyond heavy handed in his decree that Dorian stop taking risks, as if charging into the middle of a battlefield in a pair of baggy pants and an axe the size of a druffalo was a safer alternative.  Vitaar indeed, like that would stop a sword from severing Bull’s head from his shoulders if Dorian wasn’t there to keep a barrier up over the warrior.  Kaffas, he had seen what the Qunari was like when he was fully in his blood rage, there was no strategy going on in that oversized brain of his as he tore through the enemy lines like they were paper targets.  No, Dorian would never be a back line fighter, Bull needed Dorian with him to watch his back…

Dorian stumbled to a stop in the middle of the hallway, his staff dropping from his hand without notice as he tried to figure out just when the need to protect Bull had superseded the need to protect even Evie.  He was a little surprised to realize that it had actually been day one.  From the first time he set foot on the battlefield with Bull it had been his shoulder Dorian fought at not the Inquisitor’s which he supposed he could blame on the fact the Qunari seemed so damned determined to take on their enemies single-handedly but if he was honest with himself he had to admit something about the former spy got to him.

_“I’m not going to stop you, but I’m also not going to stop caring about you either.  When you get tired of running, my door’s always open.”_

“Fasta vass,” Dorian whispered to himself, Bull’s words echoing through his mind as he stared down at his feet that seemed to be glued to the floor.  It would seem he had stopped running, now the question was what to do about it.

 


	11. Chasing

 

“I swear Chief, you shoulda been there, I think Rocky almost beat his best time.”

“Woulda beat it if that if that damned nug hadn’t taken off with my last blasting cap,” Rocky grumbled, raising his tankard to his lips just as Skinner nudged him in the arm.

“Was that the magic invisible nug none of us saw?”

The entire table erupted in laughter, even Grim’s usual growl sounding decidedly more cheerful as the group teased their resident demolition expert.  The dwarf’s cheeks reddened as he mumbled, “I did not miscount my caps, I’m telling you a nug…”

Still smiling at his team Bull raised his own tankard and took a long drink as his gaze scanned the tavern before he realized what he was doing.  Slamming his ale back down on the table harder than necessary Bull resolved to turn his attention back to the Chargers.  This was ridiculous, it had been almost a week and a half since his blowout with Dorian and still he found himself looking for the mage every damn night.  He’d even gone so far as to ask Krem once if Dorian had taken to sneaking in late in the evening again but Krem had just given him a look that said he didn’t buy Bull’s excuse of needing to setup a training session with Dorian and told him no, wherever Dorian was spending his nights it wasn’t in the Herald’s Rest.

Of course Krem had to word it that way, not only to let Bull know he was fully aware that Bull’s interest in the mage wasn’t battle related, but also because his lieutenant was an asshole who rarely let an opportunity to needle Bull go to waste.  And as far as annoyances went that one had been right on the money, leaving Bull wondering where, and with whom, Dorian _was_ spending his nights.

Fuck, there he went again.  The mage had made it perfectly clear that he had no interest in Bull so why was he still contemplating the situation.  He had a feeling part of it had to do with Ilsabeth and the fact that when he’d finally decided that pining for the ‘Vint wasn’t going to do him any good he’d accepted her offer to see just how a girl from Rivain prayed.  Apparently it was naked, loud and screaming his name which had suited Bull just fine…except that his mind kept comparing Ilsa’s tawny skin to Dorian’s burnished copper, her soft supple curves to what he knew would be hard sinewy muscle.  Thankfully Ilsa hadn’t seemed to notice his distraction but he hadn’t bothered to take a bed partner since.  Apparently the ‘Vint was going to be a bit harder to banish from his mind than he had thought.

A steel boot cracked into his good leg, pulling Bull from his musings as he growled at his second only to find Krem grinning manically.  “What the fuck Krem?”

His second just jerked his head toward the door and Bull turned to see what had his lieutenant so worked up only to freeze himself.  Dorian.  Of course it was Dorian.  But fuck…

“Damn but don’t he clean up well for a Magister.”

“Altus,” Bull corrected absently, his attention not wandering from where Dorian stood just inside the door to the tavern.  The mage had on black leather that clung to him like a second skin.  Silverite buckles glinted in the candlelight and contrasted with the smooth expanse of copper skin that bared his shoulder except for the twin strips of crimson trimmed leather that ran across them and fastened across his breast.  His left arm was bare except for a black bracer, matching crimson edged straps wrapping several times before meeting in another silverite buckle. 

As the mage finally stepped fully into the tavern Bull watched as every eye in the room followed him, his muscles accentuated by the straps that wrapped firmly around his legs from hip to calf making Bull want to trace their path, perhaps even take the leather out of the equation and replace it with crimson silk ropes.  The mage would look good bound in his bed.

Only when Dorian reached the stairs was he close enough that Bull could see that Dorian had completed his look with not only his usual dusting of gold powder, his silver eyes lined with kohl, but also the hint of red angled at the corner of his eyes, making them look somehow wider, both more innocent and absolutely wicked.  Eyes locked on Bull Dorian tilted his head down minutely, the move almost submissive if not for the fact he didn’t bother to lower his gaze and Bull felt his cock harden at both the invitation and the slight.  With a twist of his lips, just a hint of a smile Dorian continued his path up the stairs without ever saying a word.

Like a bubble popping time started again, the sound of Cabot’s voice as he took an order, the wood in the fireplace crackling and shifting, Maryden’s lute plucking out the beginning to a new song, Bull took it all in at once before settling back in his chair.  Reaching for his drink he allowed the hint of a smile to play at his lips before raising his tankard and drinking.

Kicking his feet up on the edge of the table Bull bit back a smirk as his team just stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.  After several glances at each other, Bull was unsurprised when it was Krem who finally cleared his throat and asked, “Was Dorian headed for your room Chief?”

Fuck, leave it to his second to phrase it like that.  Still, Bull knew Dorian wasn’t here to meet anyone else, hadn’t dressed like _that_ for anyone else.  At least he better not have.  “Yep.”

More confused glances went back and forth between the Chargers.  This time it was Skinner who growled, “What the fuck you still doing here?”

“Finishing my drink,” Bull drawled, pinning her with a look that had her glancing away with a shrug.  More like giving the ‘Vint time to rethink his decision, because once he got Dorian alone he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to let him go again.  But his team didn’t need to know that.

Somehow he managed to make himself sit through another one of Maryden’s songs, but when she started in on her Ode to Sera he decided he’d been patient enough and  with a slap of his hands against the table he rose and headed up the stairs to the sound of Krem shouting, “Go get ‘em Chief!”

 


	12. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note because the art in this chapter is wonderful but NSFW. :)

 

Dorian paced the small space between Bull’s bed and the fireplace and told himself there had to be a good reason why Bull hadn’t followed him.  Not that he had expected the warrior to leap to his feet and shove Dorian over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes but fasta vass, he’d been here for at least twenty minutes and Bull was sitting barely thirty feet away.  Certainly by now…

Unless of course he’d changed his mind.  Kaffas.  Of course.  He was so stupid.  Perhaps they hadn’t been lying in bed when Bull had made his comment about waiting, but it had certainly been a heat of the moment kind of thing and if anyone had experience with just how little things said in the heat of the moment meant it was Dorian.  He should just…

“Whatever thought just went through that beautiful head of yours you can just un-think it.”

Bull’s deep baritone voice halted Dorian’s pacing and he looked up, surprised to find the warrior leaning against the door he’d obviously just walked through.  For such a large man the Qunari could be a silent as a cat when he wanted to be.  “Yes, well, I was just trying to decide if perhaps you were otherwise occupied…”

Bull’s laugh was deep and true, a smile curling his lips as his eye slowly took in Dorian’s appearance from top to bottom.  “Yeah, right.  After seeing you dressed like that?  I’d cancel on even the Boss herself in a heartbeat.”

“Funny, I should think Cullen would have something to say about…” Dorian trailed off as Bull pushed away from the door, his attention focused so completely on Dorian the mage couldn’t help but feel like he was being stalked by a predator.

“Why are you here Dorian?” Bull’s voice rumbled as he stepped into Dorian’s space, the back of one finger trailing down Dorian’s jaw.

Swallowing hard Dorian fought the urge to drop his gaze, forcing himself to maintain eye contact as he debated which glib answer to let fall from his lips.  As though anticipating just that Bull’s expression hardened, the finger that had trailed so gently down Dorian’s jaw slipping lower until Bull had wrapped his hand around the back of Dorian’s neck, the hold tight enough to tell Dorian that a lie would not be appreciated.  “I decided I’m done running.”

Bull’s smile transformed his face into a thing of beauty and Dorian felt some small part of him bask in the warmth of Bull’s approval.  “Finally decided you can’t live without me huh?”

Dorian knew the warrior meant it to be a lighthearted comment but for some reason the thought took him back to his realizations of several days ago, to battles he’d stood by Bull’s side and won and the thought that had he not been there the outcome might have been so very different.  To think that he could have lost Bull without ever actually knowing just how important he’d become…

Lost in his thoughts it took several moments for him to realize that Bull had raised both of his hands up to cup Dorian’s cheeks, his head dipped so that their foreheads rested against each other as the Qunari whispered to him in a mixture of Tevene, Qunlat and Common.  When Dorian finally relaxed in his grasp Bull pulled back slightly.  “Hey there, back with me?”

Dorian felt the blush creep across his cheeks.  “Sorry, just lost in thoughts.”

“I noticed.  Anything you’d like to share?”  Bull’s frown told him it wasn’t really a question.

Fasta vass, could the man not let anything go?  Sighing heavily Dorian decided on the honest approach.  “Thinking about the fact I could have lost you before I even had you.”

“Would never have happened.”

Dorian chuckled at the certainty he heard in Bull’s voice.  “And how pray tell do you know that?”

Bull’s eye sparkled but when he spoke his words were as serious as any Dorian had ever heard him speak.  “Because I have the best mage in Thedas watching my back.”

Dorian’s own eyes softened, his voice incredibly quiet.  “Bull.”

“Told you before, you just weren’t ready to listen,” Bull shrugged, the Qunari’s head dropping further until he could whisper with that sinfully deep voice right in Dorian’s ear.  “Now are we going to talk all night or are you going to let me get you out of those leathers?”

“Leathers.”  Dorian cringed as he heard his voice squeak, pausing to clear his throat before trying again.  “Definitely the leathers.”

“Mmmmm, good answer,” Bull growled, his teeth nipping at Dorian’s ear and drawing a moan from the mage.  Dorian tilted his head further to the side and Bull didn’t hesitate to take advantage, running his tongue down the curve of Dorian’s throat to nip at his exposed collarbone before sucking hard enough at the skin to pull a gasp from the mage.  Leaning back enough to see that the skin was already turning purple Bull let out a contented growl at the thought of marking the ‘Vint.  “Have to admit you’re like a pretty package all wrapped up just for me, the question is where to start.”

“If I might suggest,” Dorian whispered with a grin as he wrapped one hand around Bull’s neck and pulled the Qunari down so he could finally taste those lips that had been taunting him for weeks.  It was like Qarinus in the spring after the rains had fallen, fresh and earthy and spicy and when Bull nipped at his lower lip Dorian opened for him instantly needing to taste every bit of him.  He felt more than heard the rumble in Bull’s chest as the warrior pulled him closer, his arm wrapping tightly around Dorian’s waist while his other hand slipped down to cup Dorian’s ass and lift him from the ground.

Allowing his own hands to explore Dorian delighted in the shift of hard muscle beneath smooth skin as Bull carried him, his legs wrapping around Bull’s waist allowing Dorian greater access to nip at Bull’s chin then run a trail of kisses across his jaw all the way to his ear.  Blowing softly before nipping at the silver flesh Dorian thrilled at the shiver that passed through the Qunari before Bull growled out his name.  Smiling at the realization of just how sensitive Bull’s ears were Dorian licked the shell before nipping his way to the tip, delighting in the way Bull’s arms tightened against him.

Then it was Dorian’s turn to moan as Bull shifted, the hand that cupped Dorian’s ass allowing his body to slide down a few tantalizing inches, the friction of Bull’s hard cock sliding against his own separated only by a barrier of leather and cloth had Dorian’s hands dropping to Bull’s belt, determined to put them skin to skin.

With a gasp Dorian felt himself airborne only to land with a bounce on Bull’s bed, the warrior dropping down right beside him and capturing both of Dorian’s wrists in one large hand.  The grin on Bull’s face belied his words as he growled, “Told you, my present.  Taking my time.”

“Well I hardly think that’s…” Dorian’s words were cut off as Bull again took control of his mouth, his tongue tangling with Dorian’s and demanding access while Bull’s one free hand moved to caress Dorian’s exposed shoulder.  One silver finger slipped beneath the straps that crossed that expanse of copper skin and Dorian shuddered at the feel of Bull stroking him before he unfastened the first buckle.  When Dorian relaxed into his kiss and his touch Bull pulled back far enough to look down into the ‘Vint’s stormy eyes.  “We do things my way.  You don’t like something or you want it to stop you say Katoh, otherwise…my way.”

There was no missing the flare of heat in Dorian’s eyes nor the way his body melted even further against Bull but still the Qunari asked, “What’s the word to stop?”

“Katoh.”

“Good Dorian,” Bull purred, that brilliant smile back on his face as he bent to press a quick kiss to Dorian’s lips.  Shifting so he could run his free hand from Dorian’s shoulder all the way up to where he had his wrists pinned Bull growled, “Someday I’m going to wrap those wrists of yours in white leather with gold buckles just to show off your skin, but for now I’m going to let you go and you’re going to keep them right there for me, understood?”

The last word was punctuated by Bull’s chin nuzzling against Dorian’s and the mage found himself agreeing just to see that pleased smile on Bull’s face again.  Fasta vass, but he thought that look could be his downfall…he had a feeling he’d do just about anything to see it on Bull’s face.  Then he was beyond thought as Bull brought both his hands down the outside of Dorian’s arms, his nails scratching against his skin just hard enough to leave faint tracks, drawing a shiver from the mage.  

Then Bull was kissing him again, his mouth moving across his jaw down his throat leaving a trail of nips and bites that Dorian was sure he’d see for days.  The warrior’s tongue slid against the remaining strap on his shoulder, following the path of leather with his mouth all the way to Dorian’s chest before deftly unbuckling it also and exposing more skin to his touch.

When Bull shifted to sit across Dorian’s hips, the mage couldn’t help but buck up into him.  Fuck, he felt so damn good and Dorian just wanted them both naked now.  Impatiently shifting beneath the warrior Dorian ignored Bull’s growl of warning as the Qunari unsnapped the last of his buckles quickly, shoving the leather to the side to expose the expanse of Dorian’s chest.  Shifting again Dorian found his hips stilled fully by the press of Bull’s thighs even as the Qunari spread his huge hands across the entire width of his chest.  Leaning down Bull placed enough weight on his arms that Dorian was effectively pinned below the larger man as he scowling down at Dorian.  “What part of I _really_ like being in control don’t you get?”

“Fasta vass, I noticed,” Dorian growled, his body stilling tensely against Bull.  “But get on with it.”

Bull’s growl drowned out Dorian’s, the warrior’s face so close now that Dorian could feel his exhales against his skin.  “I will, when you stop trying to take it back.”

 Almost before Dorian could draw another breath Bull had shifted to stretch out his entire body over Dorian’s.  The Qunari’s legs bracketed Dorian’s, his impressive hardon pressed into Dorian’s pelvis, while Bull’s chest pressed into his own.  One of Bull’s hands had slid back up to pin Dorian’s wrists while the other hand wrapped around Dorian’s neck, thumb pressed beneath his chin to raise his head up while the rest of the hand immobilized his neck.  There was nothing warm in Bull’s eye now, only this implacable certainty that he would have the mage how and when he wanted him.  And despite the fact he was entirely encompassed by Bull, that even the slightest twitch of a muscle would translate to the Qunari and no doubt annoy him further Dorian didn’t think he’d ever before felt so...safe.

Just the thought was heady enough to have him relaxing against Bull’s hold, his own eyes softening as Bull’s expression warmed at the feel of Dorian’s submission.  The warrior dropped his head, his lips gentle this time as he pressed tender kisses to both sides of Dorian’s mouth before encouraging him to open and allow Bull in.  If possible Dorian’s muscles relaxed even further under the sensual assault and when Bull finally pulled back the look in his eye was once again warm and approving.  “Good Dorian, just let me take care of you.”

It should have been a frightening concept.  Dorian had been taking care of himself for far too long to trust anyone else to the job.  And yet he found himself doing as Bull commanded, basking in the attention Bull paid to every inch of his body as Bull continued his slow methodical exploration.   The way Bull’s nails followed the path of Dorian’s breastbone before spreading out and scrapping over Dorian’s nipples, pulling a low groan from the mage that had Bull dipping down to lave at the sensitive spot with his tongue before biting gently.  Bull chuckled as Dorian slightly arched up into the touch, quietly assuring him the movement was ok before switching his attention to the other side then back again until the mage was shifting uncontrollably beneath him, a steady stream of Tevene falling from his lips.

Bull smiled as he shifted to follow the path of Dorian’s ribs lower.  Fuck the mage was even more responsive than he had hoped for, what Bull wouldn’t give to have him in his restraints where he could tease him all damn night.  Bull traced Dorian’s well defined stomach with his fingers and his tongue before dropping even lower to nip and suck at the arch of Dorian’s hip where it rose above his leathers.  His breath hot against the laces Bull ignored them to run his tongue along the top edge of Dorian’s leathers, smiling at the groan he drew from the mage before biting his other hip hard enough to leave a matching mark there.  He hardly recognized Dorian’s voice, all need and desire as he pleaded, “Fuck Bull…please.”

Technically he supposed begging was allowed, especially when done so sweetly so Bull set his fingers to work on the laces as he rested his chin on Dorian’s thigh and looked up the expanse of copper skin he had bared to find a set of stormy grey eyes staring back at him, pupils blown and full of need.  Bull felt a growl form in his chest at the sudden desire he had to keep this man who was such a damn contradiction.  So fucking prickly in the field but drop him down and ask for his submission and he became so fucking sweet Bull’s cock was hard as a rock just from thinking about it.

Finally freeing the laces Bull tugged Dorian’s leathers down to find Dorian’s cock every bit as hard as his, the tip already leaking pre-cum.  Running just one finger across the crown to catch some of the liquid Bull delighted at the way Dorian’s entire body shivered, his head dropping back and a low groan falling from the mage’s lips.  Raising his finger to his lips Bull licked the fluid from his finger with a low moan of his own before acknowledging that just a taste wasn’t going to satisfy him.  Impatient now himself, he pulled Dorian’s leathers off completely so he could spread the mage’s legs and kneel between them, his head dipping down to follow the same path his finger had a moment before and for the first time he saw Dorian have trouble following the command to leave his hands stretched above his head.

Suddenly Bull needed to feel the mage’s hands against his skin as much as he needed to taste Dorian and he found himself relenting on his own rule as he lowered his head to nuzzle at the juncture of Dorian’s hip, sucking another dark mark into the copper skin  before growling, “You can touch me now.”

As Bull shifted his attention lower to lick then suck Dorian’s balls into his mouth he rolled them gently as the ‘Vint shifted above him, he was surprised to feel Dorian’s fingers lightly touch the patch of skin at the base of his horns.  He had been prepared for the ‘Vint to not touch him at all, to allow himself to be so lost in sensation that he didn’t move, or for the opposite, for his hands to grip Bull’s head and try to take control, but this, this was something else.  As Bull moved his attention up to lick Dorian’s cock from base to tip Dorian’s fingers continued their own slow exploration, his palms lying flat against the top of Bull’s head for a moment before slipping down to caress the tips of his ears, then one finger was drawn carefully down the flesh behind the ear, circling down below to draw back up against the front of his ear as though the ‘Vint was trying to learn every inch of him.

Shaking his head slightly Bull reapplied himself to the task at hand, slipping his mouth around Dorian’s cock and taking him down in one long slow move that drew a deep sigh from the mage below him who’s own hands slipped lower to caress Bull’s jaw.  With Dorian’s long fingers resting against either side of his head he slid his mouth up and down the ‘Vint’s cock, his tongue swirling around the length and taking a moment to press into the slit as he pulled up before taking him down entirely again.  They were long lazy movements interrupted only by the press of Dorian’s fingers into his jaw and the sound of the mage beginning to come apart above him.  It was as though for every ounce of pleasure Dorian received he was determined to repay Bull with touch, massaging the sensitive muscle that connected the jawbone, drawing those long fingers almost down to Bull’s chin and back again.  And Bull in turn was determined to provide Dorian with everything he needed, one hand slipping down to cup the mage’s balls and one finger of the other hand slipping through the combination of spit and pre-come that was pooling at the base of Dorian’s cock so that he could slip it lower and tempt Dorian’s ass.

Dorian’s hands stilled then, and Bull felt the flex of muscle as the mage tried to resist the urge to grab a hold of Bull, settling in the end for wrapping those fingers of his around Bull’s horns as the warrior picked up the pace, the combination of fingers and tongue and suction finally making the mage arch off the bed with a muttered curse as he spilled into Bull’s mouth.  His hands fell away from Bull’s horns as his entire body went slack.  Bull rose above Dorian to see the mage’s head still thrown back, his mouth open on a cry looking both completely wrecked and absolutely breathtaking at the same time.  Lowering himself careful to Dorian’s side Bull kissed the mage gently before nudging at his jaw.  “You with me ‘Vint?”

“No, I’m pretty sure you killed me,” Dorian drawled, raising one lazy hand to cup Bull’s cheek before pulling his head down for another kiss.

Tasting himself on his lover’s tongue brought a growl to Dorian’s lips and he took control of the kiss for several long moments as he finally got to explore Bull’s mouth while his hand wrapped around the warrior’s back, his nails scratching down Bull’s spine and driving the Qunari’s body into his own.  As the need for air drove them apart Dorian growled softly at the press of Bull’s cock against his hip.  Forcing his eyes open he smiled lazily at the amused look in Bull’s eye.  “Ok, apparently I’m not dead yet and as soon as I can move I’ll return the favor.”

“No rush, we have all night,” Bull chuckled, his own hand wrapping possessively around Dorian’s hip.  “Besides, I told you already, I take care of what’s mine.”

“Yours hmm?” Dorian smirked, thinking that if this was what it meant to belong to somewhere, to belong to someone, he could get used to the idea.  “I’m beginning to like the sound of that.”


End file.
